#Poetember ... For the poets out there, this month we are introducing the brand new poetry challenge, ‘Poetember.’’ We are challenging you to write and share a poem every day throughout September!​Guidelines:

Write a poem every day in September.

You can write a poem about any topic you like, but we’ll provide optional prompts if you need them.

If you choose to share your work on social media, don’t forget to link and tag us in your post (details shown below) We might even feature your work on our blog!

Prompt #1 - Calm​Stormy Weather

Crow caws the alarm,Flapping ferociously.Gales grab at fancy flyers; End is nigh.

I saw her therein a room:livid lavender in the canistersmells all purple and lilac-ya plum petunia,Violet vavoomed a violent violashe, Violaceous Amethystine,a mauve orchid, andI, a hyacinth painted pansy magenta, crouched next to the Spider lightersitting on the floor, fallen

a note on method - I looked up the prompt word in the thesaurus and combine words based on sound; ‘spider lighter’ is a random pleasant sounding object that was part of my physical world at the time; gradually an image appeared in my mind, and a mood...

Violaceous Amethystine is a viola-playing beauty. The narrator is a mere common man, crouched low on the floor, watching his love perform.

Operation Library/Afternoon Adventure

There were distractions galoreSo I moved out the doorAnd down the streetI moved my feet.I heard a tweet,Louder than the others,A message just for me.So I seek out the strange staccato sound,Which is a little like laughter.Maybe they laugh at me, or with me.I’m giggling at the mad squirrelsAs they dash to and froAnd those chickadees are getting frisky.Spring is in the air,So many robins in the grass there.

Oh, right...Operation get me to the library...

Here, at the library, all cozied up in a nook(a book nook, if you like).I hear papers rustling;Some people still read paper.Voices murmur in muted whispers.The bookcart creaks across floor.There is always work to be done.Hushed laughter indicates pleasureIn a world of words.

Words in books.Numbers to show the way.There is order, here.Dewey liked everything in its own placeAs peaceful as it is upstairs,Downstairs, the squealing, singing and playing tots enjoy the day

Some folks choose magazines,Others head to bestsellers to see what’s #hashtag #trending,Some, to new releases, with old endings.My mind wanders. I wonder:how many books haveever been written? and havethey all been read?Is that even possible? I ponder.There are way too many books to count,Let alone read... and if a book is never read is it still a book?

Anyway,Just hanging out in my library nookTrying to write for 30 minutes.It’s not so hard, surely.Surely, it’s not so easy.

Putting the pen to the paper: This poem was created out of my 30 minute ‘Free Write’ at my local library. I noticed my prose was poem-y, or my poem was prose-y, so I did a quick edit as I inputted the words into the second draft. ** It is still a work in progress.

The One In the Window

In certain slants of light, she lookslike that dude from Metallica (in his younger years).Everything was happening in Hollywood.This ain’t Kansas anymore; it’s real,And my favourite ruby shoeshave a broken heel.I don’t like how it feels.And nobody wants tohave anything to dowith a girl and her guitar.

It occurs to me I’m in a dead trade.I can’t find work so I cant get paid.And it seems to me,Everybody does it all for free.

And you realize, as you roam,that there’s no place like home.But your home is someone else’s couch.And it’s do, or don’t;Not a question of won’t

Truth resonatesThe universe inspirates.Failing to find love and happiness;Falling fully and flailing completely;It’s all in the rewrites.Through it all, you gotta keep on keeping on.

Flare (I’m Fine)

​(I’m fine.)

My neckfeels like a car wreck.Bruised from hipto toe to tip.It’s more like a Mack truckgot stuckAfter running over me.And I couldn’t get free.

Though I don’t like to pout,I’m all inside out.I’ve been sucked through a Hooverin some fancy maneuver.I’ve got that run down,might drown,dragged out feeling once again;Feeling far from Zen.Please note,I’m wearing a 100lb coatand heavy lead bootsto match my mean moods.

Angels Told Me

Divine guidance manifested through music and meditationIdeas and inspirationsin abundancein Nature’s Serenity;Enchanting harmoniesForgiveness is freedomTrust time to pass so celebrate successesOf a creative spirit awakening

Gummy candy and chocolate;Reeses peanut butter death cups-for a certain population of unlucky souls.Skor, skittles and smartiesAll contribute to my rotting teethies;Airheads, making me anything but smart.

Me and my 3 Musketeers are never lonely.We have each other, until wellAfter Eight. I can't sleep; I've sealed my fate.Sugar buzz, sugar highWhy, I feel like I could flyTo Mars and the Milky Way.​Take a little trip with me!Watch out for the Starburst A sticky, sickly, sweet curse.

Hey, Hubba Bubba,Come, kiss my Hot Cherry Lips!I'm a SweeTart who's into M&Ms and Malteasers,Together, we can take a Fun DipWith liquorice whips:)

Atomic fireballs, bazooka, blow popLife Savers, these are not.More like weapons of slow destruction.They'll rot you from the inside out!

You have nothing else to do but dwellAnd twist mole hills into mountainsThat rise into insurmountable peaksIf you seek conspiracy and dastardly deeds,Then that is all you shall findplease,don't forget the one you leave behind

There are those days when you're just driven to daytime drinking...You know those days, right?It's worse when there is actually no drink to be drank;When things go flying before you can even catch your breath;You get beat upon by life and also fists;Your best bud is mad at you;You got assignments due at schooland two jobs to boot;You gotta make time for the dentist to do his business.(I'll have you all know - contrary to popular belief, I do not have a big mouth- and so it really hurts afterwards, what with the fibro and all!)My hair is atrocious and requiring attention and care...You get the picture, I'm sure, Because I know you feel it, too.